Stalker
by nightwalker21492
Summary: Hermione is being stalked. Mwhahaha
1. Chapter 1

**SUMMERY:** During the war The Burrow was destroyed, killing Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and leaving the children homeless. George moved back into the flat above W.W.W. Harry and Ginny got engaged and Ginny lives with Harry during the school breaks in his recently bought mansion, that was in amazing condition, considering it's last owners, The Malfoys. Voldemort was destroyed but there are still some Death Eaters running around with a grudge. Hermione was only able to reverse the spell on her mother and not her father, so she now lives with only her mother and Malfoy **(who doesnt hate the Trio because they saved him even though he's a farret.)**, who her mother kindly let stay in the basement because she didn't want to be a grandmother. Some students were also allowed to return to Hogwarts and finish their 7th year. Out of the Trio, only Hermione chose to go back. But at least she has Ginny. Oh yea, Snape never died either, but i think it only mentions him once. **(Some parts will sound like BtVs but dont worry, it is a HP fic.)**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Winter break. Four weeks that spanned from mid-December to mid-January. Because of the war, the dorms in Hogwarts were closed, the power was shut down, and the house elves wrapped everything in tinfoil to save for the next semester. It was a time for relaxation after a semester at Hogwarts. It was a time for students to see their parents, and beg for money. It was a time to see old muggle friends, to work part-time, and to beg for more money.

Hermione Granger dropped her laundry bag and school trunk to the floor, turned and waved to Harry and Ginny, who had just dropped her off in the flying car Mr. Weasley had left for them in his will, and shut the front door. She looked left and right, then collapsed onto her couch and sighed.

She picked up her trunk and headed up the stairs to her bedroom. She was happy that school was out. First semester of her 7th year had been harder than she thought it would be. If it wasn't for her best friend, Ginny Weasley, she would be receiving one of those little letters in the mail that read _"Don't come back."_

Since the end of the war, Hermione had been more care free and wanted to have as much fun as she possibly could. Which meant doing what the twins normally did; play pranks, watch them play out and get out of trouble for pulling the prank. And because she was Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her age, no one suspected that it was her when Snape's wand turned on him every time he tried to cast a spell. And the times she **DID** almost get caught, Ginny had bailed her out every time, with a good laugh at Hermione's expense.

Tossing her trunk on the bed, she looked around the bedroom that seemed very strange after living at Hogwarts and being a runway in the war for months and months. For one thing, it was bigger. Much bigger. For another, she was used to the decorations she and Ginny had put up in their shared room, rather than the butterflies and posters on the walls that decorated her bedroom at home. Maybe during break she would redecorate. She would have the time, because her only employment occurred after the sun set and her mother was gone until Christmas on a long-planned business trip. Even then, her mother would only be home the 24th, 25th and 26th of December, then she'd be heading back to New York until January.

Hermione didn't mind that she'd be pretty much alone in the house. She'd known long in advance that her mother would be gone, had even helped pack for the trip, and it wasn't as if her mother hadn't left her before for business reasons. If she did needed anything, she could always call Ginny or George or Harry or Malfoy (who lived in the basement).

"Speaking of basements," Hermione said to herself. She grinned and headed back down the stairs. It was time to annoy her house guest by doing laundry at two in the morning on a Saturday, instead of on "laundry Sundays."

Scooping up the large bag, she headed for the kitchen. Quietly, she opened the door to the basement and looked down into the dark with an evil smile.

"INCOMING!" Hermione yelled, throwing the bag down the stairs. She hit the overhead lights on the wall, then thundered down the stairs after it. She jumped off the last step and landed with her arms upraised in a gymnast's pose. "Ta-da! Guess who!?"

"Every Hogwarts Qudditch team?" Draco hadn't even bothered to look up from the muggle magazine he was reading.

The double bed he was lounging on jutted out from the side wall five feet from the bottom of the stairs. On one side was an old, tired-looking, two drawer night-stand with a simple desk lamp, CD player-alarm clock and a picture of himself, his friends Crabb and Goyle and they were standing in front of Hogwarts. Three feet separated the opposite side of the bed from a ten gallon fish tank on a stand against the far wall. Four colorful, tropical fish swam slow laps in the water amidst fake rock formations and plastic plants.

Green and Silver Black-out curtains covered the small windows set high on the walls. Next to the washer and dryer to the right of the stairwell sat a dresser, five drawers in height. On top of the dresser was a small television and piles of CDs and a few trophies and awards he had received from Quidditch, Hogwarts and helping stop Voldemort _(even if it was last minute)._ On the floor near it, were small towers of muggle and magical books and newspapers that looked as if they were going to collapse at any moment. A coat tree, with a Slytherin Quidditch jersey hanging from one of the pegs, stood guard several feet from dresser along the back wall.

Hermione picked up her laundry bag and went over to the wash machine. "Sorry about my mum putting you in the basement. We'd put you in the guest room if we had one." She joked. "It's two in the morning, why aren't you sleeping?"

Malfoy shrugged and turned the page in his book. "Couldn't." he looked up at this. "You're mum still think we're _'going to get it on'_ as she so recently put?"

Hermione laughed as she loaded her clothes into the washer. "No, I think she gave up on that."

Malfoy and Hermione had a strange friendship since the end of the war and the downfall of Voldemort. Sometimes they got along wonderfully, other times they were at each other's throats, and both of them ignored the physical attraction they felt for one another. Neither of them consciously wanted to get involved in a romantic relationship. Unconsciously, however...

"Hey, did Mum leave any instructions about Christmas?" Hermione asked, taking more things from the laundry bag and tossing them into the washer.

"I was drafted into getting the bloody tree with you," Malfoy replied. "She wants it up this weekend."

"Don't sound so excited."

"Granger, what do I care about a Christmas tree?" Malfoy said. He stuck scrap of paper in the book and closed it, then tossed it on the bed beside him. "Or Christmas, for that matter?"

"I know this is your first Christmas since your parents passed away, but it'll be fine." she said as she sat down next to him and played with his hair. "I'll make all the things your mother would make for supper." she said in an attempt to make her friend feel better.

"Nah. Thanks anyway. If I'm going to get past their deaths then I can't have you decorating the house the way mum used to and cook like she used to. I'll be fine. I promise." he said as he hugged her. "Besides, Christmas wasn't always that great with my father. I don't really want to be reminded of him."

Hermione got up and added soap, closed the lid to the washer and turned it on. "Well, I'm going to go unpack. Sun sets at four-fifteen-ish tonight which means any left over Death eaters with a grudge might be out. So I wanna go through the town real quick make sure they aren't up to anything and then we can go tree hunting."

"Joy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and headed back up stairs, leaving the very depressed blond alone with his thoughts. When he got this way, it was better to just leave him be and let the storm pass.

**later that day**

"There's mail for you, Granger." Malfoy said, setting the pile of mail he'd retrieved on the kitchen counter. He took a seat at the island table with the newspaper and a cup of tea painting a picture of domesticity that made Hermione grin. Despite his bad boy looks he could be any normal 18 year old sitting down to plan his evening, rather than an 18 year old wizard, who got his kicks from playing Quidditch and making fun of her ever chance he got.

"Thanks," Hermione said, leafing through the mail until she found a standard white envelope with her name scrawled acrossit in beautiful penmanship. There was no post marking, stamp or return address. Curiosity peaked, she took a knife out of the kitchen drawer and slit the top. She put the knife away, then pulled out the tri-folded white paper.

_Hello,Hermione_

That was all it read. The words were written in the same beautiful penmanship, centered on the page, and there was no signature.

"Huh," Hermione said, a frown marring her brow. "This is odd."

Malfoy glanced up from the newspaper. "What's odd?"

"I think I got a secret admirer," she told him, passing him the paper.

He read it and a frown much the same as hers appeared on his face. "Let's see the envelope."

"It's got nothing on it," Hermione told him, handing him the envelope. "It's probably George playing a prank." She smiled enthusiastically. "Or maybe Morgan from school. I wouldn't mind having _him_ as an admirer."

Malfot pursed his lips, causing his cheekbones to become more prominent. Just because he couldn't touch her, didn't mean he wanted anyone else to touch her, either. "Perhaps," he replied, folding the letter and sticking it back in the envelope. He finished off the rest of his tea, then rose and washed the cup out in the sink. "Ready to go, Herms?"

"Yep." Hermione said, sliding her winter coat on. She grabbed her wallet with the money for the Christmas tree in it and stuck it in her pocket. She quickly checked to make sure she had her wand, then followed Ron out the kitchen door.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, scanning the darkness.

"What's wrong, Herms?" Malfoy asked, looking around as well. "Company?"

"No...I don't..." She frowned. "I got that _'someone's walking over my grave'_ feeling."

"That could be why," he said, nodding towards the large, cloaked creature that bounded out of the bushes ahead of them. The figure looked in their direction, dropped down in attack position, baring its silver mask and wand.

"Death Eater." Hermione said.

"I'm gonna have to agree." Malfoy said and the fight was on.

She ran straight at the figure, grabbing its attention as Draco darted behind it. She punched it in the nose, then spun and kicked it in the same spot. The figure yelped and growled, chanting ferociously and tried to hex her.

Draco grabbed the Death Eater's cloak and jumped back when its right hand swung at him. He spun, yanking the figure around and let go. The Death Eater flew several feet and hit the ground with a thud.

Hermione glanced up at he sky, checking to see if there were anymore Death Eaters coming to help. To her relief, it was an empty sky, so she needn't worry that there would be another fight. She gestured to Malfoy to corral the Death Eater between them. The blond wizard hurried around the far side of the figure. The Death eater continued to send hexes at them, which they easily dodged.

Draco made a sudden moved and it jumped around, facing away from Hermione. Hermione used this to her advantage. She pulled out her wand and sent a killing curse straight at the figure. She looked up at Malfoy and let the Death eater drop to the ground, dead, when she heard it.

_Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap._

The sound echoed around them, not allowing either of them to pinpoint the direction it came from. It was a slow, hollow clap.

_Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap._

Chills ran down her back. The steady clapping felt more threatening than a horde of Death Eaters, especially since she couldn't see who was doing it.

"Who's out there?" Hermione called loudly. Draco was slowly turning in a circle, listening carefully for any signs of a sound that might help them tell who or what was clapping.

_Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap._

She rounded the dead Death Eater and moved to Malfoy's side. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow. Another shiver ran down her spine as the clapping continued.

_Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap._

Draco growled softly in frustration. He couldn't tell where the clapping was coming from. It was unnerving. Hermione put her hand on his arm and he glanced at her. Her eyes were round with traces of fear. His hands clenched into fists and he yelled, "Show yourself!"

The clapping stopped.

The duo waited, tense and ready to move at the slightest sound. The cricket's chirping and other noises of the night were the only things they could hear.

later that night

"You say it just stopped?" George asked, questioning Hermione later that night in the flat above his shop.

"Yeah," Hermione said. She rubbed her arms. "It was really weird."

"And no one was there?" George continued.

"We waited for ten minutes before we left," Hermione replied. "No one even _breathed_."

"Ferret?" George looked Malfoy.

"I didn't see a bloody thing," Malfoy said.

"Well, for now, keep on your guard," George instructed. "If it is a new Death Eater, the sooner we know who he or-or-or she is, the better." He stuttered. After the war George had stopped talking for months. But Hermione had got him to start talking again and because he hadn't talked in so long, he now stuttered every now and then.

"Got it," Hermione said. She stood and put on her coat. "Come on, blondy. We have a Christmas tree to find."

"Yeah, I know." he said as he said good bye to George.

Hermione walked over to George and stood on her tip toes. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, George. We'll talk to you later."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Ow! Watch it!"

"Sorry," Hermione apologized. Malfoy grumbled something obscene about Christmas trees and certain a witch's body parts. She giggled and continued ogling the blond headed wizard. He was on his forearms and knees under the tree, trying to get the tree screws tightened in the holder, his rear in the air.

He had a nice butt, she thought. Especially in his black jeans. It was also nice not covered by anything, something she found out purely on accident one night, but remembered quite clearly. But she wouldn't give into her lust for her friend no matter how sexy he was or how much she liked him.

She shook the tree slightly. "Are you done yet?"

"If you'd stop shaking it," Draco growled.

The night before, they had found the "perfect tree" and had left it on the back porch overnight to be set up when there was more time. George had given them both the weekend off from Weasley's Wizarding Weezes, and Hermione planned to decorate the tree...if Malfoy ever finished tightening the screws.

"There," Malfoy said, crawling backwards. He clapped his hands on his knees and looked up at the tree. "Let go."

Hermione let go and the tree stayed put. She smiled and ruffled Malfoy's hair. "Good job."

Draco smacked her hand away and stood. "My Christmas contribution is done. I'm gone."

She chuckled as he quickly left the living room for the basement, running his hand through his mussed hair. She headed for the kitchen to make some popcorn before digging the ornaments out. Humming Christmas tunes, she stuck the popcorn in the microwave and turned it on. Retrieving a bowl, she set it on the island table and began leafing through the stack of mail Malfoy had brought in. He was a good houseboy.

She smiled at the thought of Draco wearing white pants and a bright blue polo shirt with a towel over his arm. The smile faltered as her hand hovered over the plain white envelope with her name written on it. Using her finger rather than a knife, she opened it and unfolded the single sheet of paper.

_I am watching you_

_**Beeeeeeeeeep**_**.**

The microwave let out a loud beep and Hermione jumped and whirled around with a gasp. Her heart pounded in her chest and her eyes were wide as she stared at the microwave. With a shaky hand, she lifted the perfectly scripted letter and read it again. The message had not changed.

She heard the front door slam and she whipped around the other direction, hitting her hip on the counter. Blindly, she reached for a utensil sitting in the ceramic cup on the counter, her eyes never leaving the kitchen doorway. She took a deep breath and crept forward, letter in one hand, kitchenware in the other. She slowly went to peek around the corner and-

"Granger?"

"AAAH!" Hermione screamed, spinning around and raising her weapon.

Malfoy looked at her in confusion. "Um, pet? Do you plan to whisk me to death?"

Hermione stomped forward and began hitting him with the wire whisk. "Don't scare me like that!"

Malfoy managed to grab the whisk from her and set it down. "What the bloody hell is your problem? You knew I was home."

"But you left," Hermione said. Her heart finally slowed down. "I heard you slam the front door and after reading this..." She shook the letter in her hand. "I got a little freaked."

Malfoy took the letter out of her hand and uncrumpled it. "Luv, I didn't leave," he said absently, reading the letter.

"If you didn't leave, then why did the front...door...slam..." Hermione's eyes grew round and she slowly turned to the kitchen doorway again.

"Gosh, Herms, this is a st-"

"Shh," Hermione interrupted. She looked back at Draco and whispered, "Someone's in the house."

Malfoy looked at her, then at the doorway as if expecting someone to come around the corner. He listened carefully, but could hear nothing except the sounds of the house settling. He set the letter down and headed out of the kitchen.

"Draco!" Hermione squeaked. She quickly went after him and ran into his back when he stopped in the hallway.

"What?" he whispered.

"I'm coming with you," she whispered back.

He arched his brow at the nervousness in her voice, then shrugged. He continued making his way silently up the hall towards the front door. He stopped abruptly, causing Hermione to bump into him again, but he didn't care. He was too focused on the rose sitting just inside the front door.

Hermione gasped and grabbed his arm, staring down at the blood-red rose. She looked over at the darkened dining room, wondering if the shadows had always been there. Malfoy bent down to pick up the rose and she yanked back on his arm.

"Leave it," she hissed.

Draco glanced back at her and frowned. She was acting as if she was scared. The Hermione he knew was never scared. Deciding to humor her, he left the rose and turned towards the dining room. He flipped on the light inside the doorway and looked around. Seeing nothing amiss, he continued through to the kitchen, Hermione right on his heels.

The two went through the entire house, room by room, leaving the lights on behind them at Hermione's insistence. When they reached the kitchen again, Draco picked up the letter and reread it. "I think someone's playing a joke on you, Herms."

"It's not a very nice joke," Hermione pouted. She looked at the rose Malfoy had picked up on their way back to the kitchen. It was perfect, red, and the thorns were meticulously stripped off. It gave her the creeps.

Draco tossed the letter back on the counter. "Well, no one's here and I have plans. Sleep tight, Granger." he said as he put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then grabbed his jacket off the coat rack behind the door and left.

Hermione shook her head at his abrupt departure and went over to the microwave to retrieve her popcorn. As she dumped it into the bowl, her eyes drifted over to the letter and the rose sitting beside it. The house seemed to grow unnaturally quiet, save for the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall. She shifted on her feet and looked towards the kitchen doorway. Thirty seconds later, she was out the back door and rapidly walking up the street. She didn't stop until she was outside a familiar set of French doors.

"Hermione, hi," Luna greeted, stepping back to allow Hermione inside. "What's up?"

"I thought maybe we could do that sleep-over thing..."

Luna grinned and jumped for joy. She had been trying to get Hermione to sleep over ever since she moved in down the street from the blond haired witch.

By the light of day, Hermione chastised herself for her ridiculous behavior. The rose and letter got tossed in the garbage when she got home from Luna's. She was Hermione Granger. She fought creatures and Death Eaters in the war that would make the most courageous muggles piss their pants. She could handle a prankster.

After changing clothes, she put some Bing Crosby on the stereo and proceeded to decorate the tree. The star went on top again. Malfoy ventured into the living room to make fun of her musical tastes and promising to make a sweep around the town for more Death Eaters at ten, before he disappeared for the evening.

She had just finished hiding the empty ornament boxes when the phone rang. Turning down the volume on the stereo, she snatched up the phone on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

No reply.

"Hello?" Hermione repeated.

No reply.

She shrugged and hung up the phone. Turning to the refrigerator, she pulled out a microwave dinner and set it on the counter. The phone rang again.

"Hello?" Hermione said upon answering it.

No reply.

"Hello?" she said, exasperated. "If this is a telemarketing call, we don't want any."

No reply.

Disgusted, she hung up again. "Stupid salespeople," she muttered, opening up the tv dinner box. She was reading the directions on the back when the phone rang yet again.

"Hello?" Hermione said, getting frustrated.

No reply.

"You're starting to piss me off," she growled into the phone. "Stop calling."

She slammed down the receiver and threw her dinner into the microwave. The phone rang again and she let out a small scream of annoyance. "What?" she spat into the phone.

No reply.

"Listen you bloody jackass, I'm not into prank calls. Get your kicks on somewhere else." She slammed down the receiver again, then turned off the ringer. She punched the numbers on the microwave with hard, vicious jabs, almost denting the keypad. She heard the faint sound of the phone ringing upstairs, but she ignored it.

The phone stopped after five rings and didn't ring again. The microwave beeped nine minutes later and she took her dinner out. Stirring up the mashed potatoes, she took a seat at the counter and leafed through a clothes catalog as she ate.

The doorbell rang. Quickly swallowing her mouthful of food, Hermione set down her fork and headed for the door. She looked out the peep-hole, but saw no one. Frowning, she opened the door, only to find no one there. She was about to close the door when she saw a box on the porch. She picked it up and opened the lid. "What's this?"

She pulled a red and blue jack-in-the-box out of the plain white box. Closing the door with her hip, she set the outer box on the hall table and turned the crank. "All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel," she sang under her breath to the tinny music. "The monkey thought it all was fun, pop..."

She jumped slightly, even though she was expecting the little clown to explode from the top. But that wasn't what made her start pounding in her chest. Taped to the plastic clown's forehead was a Polaroid of her, fork part-way to her mouth, sitting at the island counter in the kitchen.

Hermione dropped the jack-in-the-box when the doorbell rang again. She turned to the door, heart hammering so loudly, it was all she could hear. She reached for the handle and cracked open the door.

No one was there.

She dropped her gaze to the porch and saw a plain, white envelope. With a shaky hand, she picked it up and opened it.

_I am watching you right now._

Hermione slammed the front door and turned the lock. Dropping the letter, she ran to the kitchen and locked that door, as well. Standing on her toes, she peeked out the window set in the door. She heard the faint ringing of the phone upstairs. Moving slowly, she picked up the receiver and put it to her ear.

Hello?" she said in a shaky voice.

No reply.

"Hello?" she repeated, her voice fainter.

No reply.

Hermione hung up the phone and stared at it. When she heard it start to ring again upstairs, she closed her eyes, clenched her fists and counted to ten. Then she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

No reply.

Her hand visibly shook as she hung up the receiver again. It began to ring again upstairs almost immediately.

"Hello?"

No reply.

"Who's there?" she demanded, panic in her voice.

No reply.

"This isn't funny!" Hermione yelled into the phone. The response was quiet at first, but it grew louder.

Laughter.

Hermione slammed down the phone, turned and fled to the basement. "Malfoy!"

When she got downstairs, she remembered that Malfoy had gone out. She whirled around and looked up the stairs when she heard the doorbell. She waited, not moving, her nails cutting into the palms of her hands. The doorbell rang again and she launched herself onto Malfoy's bed, bunching up the covers near the bottom before crawling under them like she used to as a child. She curled into a ball and made a small hole so she could see the stairs. Her breathing was abnormally loud in the confines of the blankets.

She heard the kitchen door slam shut and she tensed. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...," she repeated over and over under her breath. Heavy footsteps crossed the kitchen floor, then descended the stairs to the basement. She froze, not even breathing, as she stared out the small hole in the blankets.

Malfoy nearly jumped out of his skin when Hermione erupted from the pile of blankets at the end of his bed. But he was surprised even more when she threw herself at him, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. "Granger, what's wrong?"

"Thephonekeepsringingandnoone'stherethenthedoorbellrangandtherewasapictureofmeinthejack-in-the-boxandIgotanotherletter..."

"Slow down, pet," Draco said, taking her shoulders and pushing her slightly away from him. He looked down into her face, noting her pale skin and her fright-filled eyes. "Now, what happened?"

Hermione took a shaky breath and started again. "The phone keeps ringing and no one is there. Then the doorbell rang and...it's better if you just see it." She took his hand and led him upstairs to the front door, then pointed at the floor. "Those were outside the door when the doorbell rang."

Malfoy studied the jack-in-the-box and the letter. "This isn't a very funny joke."

"No shit!" Hermione said sarcastically. She slumped against the front door and rubbed her forehead. "I don't like this, Malfoy."

"Well, I'm home now," he told her.

"And that's suppose to reassure me?" she asked.

Draco chuckled. If her humor had returned, she was fine. "What do you want to do about this, Herms?" He gestured to the jack-in-the-box and the letter.

"I'd say I should call the police, but this is Ottery St. Catchpole." Hermione replied. She gave him a wry smile. "They couldn't find their mouths unless a donut was in their hand."

"True," he agreed.

"Just leave it," she said with a sigh. "I'll figure something out in the morning."

Draco nodded and held out his hand. "Come on, luv. Why don't we go see what's on the telly."

Hermione gave a final glance at the things Malfoy put on the hall table, then took his hand. "You're on."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Shopping cured all ails, especially when shopping with someone else's money. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at the jewelry in the display case. Her mother had left her some "crazy money" for an early Christmas gift and Hermione was putting it to good use. Hanging from her hand were three bags of proof.

By the light of day, the picture, jack-in-the-box, and letter didn't seem threatening, only annoying. She chastised herself for acting like a slasher movie sissy and deposited all three items in the closest garbage can. If her prankster returned that night, she'd show him what happened to someone who pissed off the smartest witch of her age bracket.

Earlier that afternoon, she'd seen Luna and her boyfriend, Nevil, off on their winter break trip to America, and would be gone through New Year's. Her other close friends and past school mate, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, soon to be Ginny Potter, had gone to Ireland. And Ron was busy with the new W.W.W store in France.

Knowing that she'd be basically friendless over break was a bit of a downer. Her other friends she'd made at school lived scattered throughout the country, which would make it too difficult to get together with them. She'd probably end up spending her time with George and Malfoy, anyway, because the bad guys didn't take Christmas off like the rest of the world.

A lapel pin caught her eye and she got the salesgirl's attention. She had six hours left until the mall closed and a purse full of money to burn. She may be alone, but she was going to have a very happy holiday.

**Later That Day**

"Oh look, surprise, surprise," Hermione said, picking up a familiar envelope with her name on it from the stack of mail. "Another letter."

The two had returned a short while ago from a rather boring look out for Death Eaters and a quick stop by George's house to check in. Hermione had told George about the prankster's tricks the night before and he warned her not to hurt whomever it was too much. She had smiled evilly in response.

Draco took a sip of his egg-nog and watched as she opened it. She had gone from frightened girl to annoyed witch in the span of a day. As fun as seeing Hermione scared was, he much preferred the annoyed one standing in the kitchen with him. He'd seen her defeat a Giant three times her height with a broken arm while he was otherwise incapacitated, all because it had ripped her new suede jacket. Of course, she was fighting for her life, too, but it was the ripped jacket that had turned the tides of the fight. He couldn't wait to see what she did to the prankster.

Hermione took out the letter and unfolded it. "Let's see what I've won," she commented sarcastically.

_I will have you_

"Not in this lifetime," she scoffed, passing the letter to Malfoy. She picked up her dinner plate and took it to the sink.

"I take it this doesn't frighten you?"

She snorted. "The only one going to be scared is the jerk doing this when I get done with him."

Draco grinned and dropped the letter on the counter beside her. "Now that's the Hermione Granger I know and hate." He joked.

Hermione flicked soap bubbles at him. He arched his brow, then quickly leaned over, dipped his hand under the running faucet and splashed her back. The ensuing water fight ended up soaking both of them, half the kitchen, and most of the house as they chased each other through it.

Grinning like an idiot, Hermione closed her bedroom door and began to strip out of her wet clothing. Sometimes Malfoy could be a lot of fun, when he wasn't being his usual, cocky self. Sitting and watching television with him the night before and the sheer normalcy of eating dinner together, she was reminded of why her mother was able to put up with him on a night to night basis.

The phone rang as she slipped a tank top over her head and she snatched up her portable. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey." Her mother said over the line. "How's my favorite daughter?"

"Hi, mom." Hermione said enthusiastically. "I'm your only daughter."

"Well, you're still my favorite," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she replied, walking over to her desk. She pulled out the scissors and the scotch tape and put both on the bed. "Home from school for a month, which is always a plus."

"Should I ask how your first semester of your 7th year went?"

"Better to avoid that subject," she said with a chuckle. She pulled out a roll of wrapping paper from one of her shopping bags from her mall excursion. "Actually, I think I did pretty good. Ginny... you remember Ginny right?"

"The redhead who likes to babble," her mother said.

"That's Gin-Gin." Hermione said. "She's been a big factor in my not getting kicked out within a month."

"Well, I'll have to remember to send her a thank you," she said.

She smiled and put the phone between her shoulder and ear in order to begin wrapping her gifts. "So, how about you? How's your trip going?"

"It's going good." She said. "A little confusing. Did you know that Americans drive on the wrong side of the road, here?"

"Yes, mum. I know." Hermione laughed.

"So, have you gotten anything in the mail yet?"

Hermione paused mid-snip of the wrapping paper. Her mother couldn't know, could she? "Like what?"

"Like a Christmas package from your dear old realities." her mother replied.

"Oh," she said in relief. "No, nothing yet. Unless Malfoy made off with it. I'll have to beat-er, ask him."

"Well, honey, I better go." her mother said. "I'm sure you have better things to do than talk to me."

"Never." said Hermione.

"You're a sweetheart, Princess," she said. "Watch for the package."

"I will," she replied. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Goodnight."

"'Night," Hermione said. She hit the disconnect button on the portable phone and set it down, thinking how great it was that her mother had called. She didn't get to talk to her often because of school, so each time she did was a special treat.

Returning to her wrapping, she started to sing _The Twelve Days of Christmas_, adding new numbers and activities. By the time she finished with the gifts, all her friends had been included in the song, as well as some of the spells and Death Eaters she'd fought and defeated in the war.

"'Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la, la la la.'" she sang under her breath as she headed downstairs, her wrapped gifts in her arms to put under the tree. She could hear muffled music coming from the basement, if she were to call what Draco listened to "music."

"Whatever the next words that Tiny Tim sing in the song, fa la la la la, la la la.' "

Hermione froze mid-note, her mouth hanging half-open, as she stood in the entryway to the living room. A small squeak emitted from her as she inhaled in horror, her chest tight with fear. She slowly bent and set down her gifts on the floor, her wide eyes never leaving the sight before her.

The ball ornaments, bead strands and tinsel were all gone from the Christmas tree. In their place were what looked to be hundreds of brunette Barbie dolls, all unclothed and hanging by strands of brown twine around their necks. They covered every inch of the tree, overlapping one another, the white lights beneath them causing their plastic bodies to glow pink. She shook slightly when she realized each one bore her name written in black across the stomach.

The doorbell rang and she jumped and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She turned to the front door and stared at it, forgetting about her earlier resolve to not act like a wimpy female from a slasher movie. Her mind was too focused on the fact that someone had been **_in_** her house.

**_In_ _her house long enough to entirely strip her tree and redecorate it._**

She took a shaky breath and walked to the front door. When she saw no one on the other side, she clenched one hand into a fist and used the other unlock the door and turn the knob. A white envelope fell slightly inside when she opened the door a bit. Eyes scanning the darkness, she bent down and grabbed the envelope, then shut the door and locked it. She opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

_I WILL have you_

The letter fell to the floor as Hermione ran from the front hall to the kitchen. She slid into the door on her sock-clad feet and found that it was unlocked. The back porch light illuminated a small area of her yard and she could see the ornaments that were originally on the tree scattered on the ground. She quickly locked it, turned, and bolted for the basement.

Music assaulted her as she tore down the stairs and ran head-long into a wizard hanging upside down from a metal pipe in the ceiling. She smacked her nose hard on his bare chest, then stumbled backwards and hit the wooden railing with her back.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, holding her nose between the fingers on her hands. Her fright was forgotten with the pain. She stared at the upside down Malfoy, who was holding his nose much the same way.

"Ow is bloody right!" Draco growled. "You got a set of steel tits."

The pain receded and she dropped her hands. "_What_ in the world are you doing? Practicing your Batman imitation?"

Draco reached up, grabbed the pipe and flipped down. He turned around and glared at her, then stalked over to his night-stand and turned down the volume of the music. "Not that it's any of your friggin' business, but I was doing sit-ups."

"Oh," Hermione said. She looked up at the pipe. "Huh. I'll have to try that."

He made a sound of annoyance and grabbed the towel on the edge of the bed. "Granger, did you try to break my nose for a reason or were you just bored?"

Everything came back to her at once, causing her to inhale sharply. "He was here."

"Who?" Draco looked at her quizzically

"The...the guy!" Hermione said, gesturing emphatically.

"I thought you were going to beat the snot out of him," he said. He wiped his sweaty face off with the towel. "Leaving gag gifts on the front porch-"

"_He was in the house!_"

Malfoy lowered the towel and stared at her. "No bloody way. I would have heard something."

"With the Sex Pistols playing live and uncut in the basement with you?"

He saw Hermione take a deep breath, then sit down on the steps, practically deflating before his eyes. "Bloody Hell, Granger, what did the prick leave this time?"

"Go see for yourself," Hermione told him, folding her arms over her knees and laying her head on them. "I think I'm going to just sit here for a few minutes."

She was spooked, Malfoy realized. Her barreling into the basement without knocking had been from fear, not from any desire to annoy him or desire _for_ him. He headed upstairs and padded barefoot towards the front door. He didn't see any packages, only another letter. Picking it up, he scanned what it said, then turned to head back to the kitchen.

That's when he saw the tree.

"Holy..."

Hermione was still sitting on one side of the steps when Malfoy returned. He shut the basement door behind him before descending the stairs and stopping in front of her. "Come here, luv," he said, holding out his hand.

She raised her head and looked at him in confusion. "Who's doing this, Draco?" she asked, taking his hand.

Malfoy pulled her to her feet and led her over to the far side of the bed. "I don't know, Hermione."

With little prompting, Hermione laid down on her stomach and cradled the pillow with her arms under her head. She focused on the tank, watching as the colorful fish swam lazily back and forth. Draco straddled her waist and began kneed the muscles in her shoulders.

"Mmm, that's nice," she said. "When did you get to be so sweet?"

"I have my moments," Malfoy replied. A smirk crossed his face. "It helps that you shoved your chest in my face."

"Swell," Hermione said sarcastically. She fell silent and continued to watch the fish, her eyes growing heavier with each pass they made. Malfoy's firm massaged turned gentle and she felt herself relaxing completely, all traces of fear gone

She fell asleep to the Sex Pistols rocking quietly in the background.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Hermione woke the following morning to find a sweat pants-clad, sleeping wizard on his side next to her and a hand on her butt. "Figures you'd cop a feel even in your sleep, you old lecher," she said quietly, amusement heavy in her voice. "Luckily, you're pretty damn sexy, so I won't have to hurt you."

She moved his arm, then impulsively ran her fingers over the ridges on his abdomen, grinning when the muscles quivered under her touch. "Make that too damn sexy," she sighed, climbing out of the bed and heading for the stairs.

She dared to peek into the living room and was surprised to find the Christmas tree bare, save for the lights. Two boxes sat on the coffee table and were filled with the ornaments that had been thrown about the back lawn the previous night. Her gifts were stacked neatly on the floor beside the tree.

"You definitely have your moments, Draco." she said in awe. She now knew how he'd wiggled his way into her mother's heart.

Repeating "friends, friends, friends" to herself, she went up the stairs to get cleaned up. Then she was going to redecorate the tree and come up with a plan to capture the creep stalking her.

"I hate waiting," Hermione grumbled, flopping down across her bed with a magazine. She'd sent Malfoy out to look for Death Eaters alone and told him to see a movie or something. Her stalker must be aware of their comings and goings, and this would ensure he'd know she was alone in the house. A prime target.

The tree was once again redecorated to her liking, star still on the top, and all her gifts were set out under it. Her afternoon had been spent in the traditional Christmas fashion of baking cookies -- and eating cookie dough until she became sick to her stomach - and through it all, she'd formulated and discarded plan after plan until she had the perfect one.

The back door had been left unlocked and rigged with the simple "bucket over the door" prank. The bucket was filled with chocolate syrup, which would not only leave dark footprints but was easy to clean up, too. A little bell had been attached to the bucket, enabling her to hear when it opened. The front door was locked, as were all the windows save the one in her bedroom, which was not only unlocked, but open as well.

The plan was to allow the stalker to enter the house and, while he was being covered by chocolate, Hermione would exit through her window and block his retreat. Simple, effective and she couldn't wait for the guy to show. She was looking forward to hexing him in a Ginny-like fashion.

Four hours later, she was still waiting. She read her magazine, watched some television and even started to redecorate her bedroom. Malfoy would more than likely be returning at any time and her easy target status would decrease.

Hermione sighed and took another butterfly off the wall. She added it to the shoe box filled with the others she'd already removed. If something didn't happen soon, she was going to scream.

The power went out.

"Great," Hermione grumbled, setting the shoe box on her bed. She walked over to her window and looked out, wondering how much of the block lost their power.

Her neighbor's lights were on.

Suspicion and wariness flared and she quickly left her bedroom for her mother's room. Pushing aside the curtains slightly on the side window, she looked out.

Her other neighbor's lights were on.

As were everyone's across the street.

A slow, predatory smile crossed her face. "So, you think cutting the power to my house is going to frighten me, huh?" she said quietly.

Letting the curtains fall back into place, Hermione went out into the hallway and took a seat on the top step, putting her in the center-most position within her house. She closed her eyes and focused solely on listening. Her body was poised and ready, the adrenaline she felt before a big fight gathering within her.

She heard a rasping at the front door and opened her eyes. Rising, she descended the stairs silently and positioned herself in the entryway to the dining room. The doorknob turned and the door began to open. Excitement bubbled up in her.

This was it, the perp was toast, she thought. All she had to do was wait until he entered the house and...

Draco walked through the door. She'd recognize that White Blond hair anywhere.

She attacked anyway.

"Aah!" Malfoy yelped out, falling to the floor when a five-foot-three brunette launched herself at him. He had been startled, but recovered quickly enough to block a punch aimed to his face. "Bloody hell, Granger, what the fuck has gotten into you?"

"The jerk didn't show," Hermione spat, drawing back to hit him again. "Four bloody hours I've been waiting and now the power is out, but still no one."

Malfoy twisted and threw her off. He jumped to his feet and glared down at her. "So that means I'm to be your personal punching bag? Sod that."

He stalked toward the kitchen and Hermione stayed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. She balled her fists. "Argh!" she growled in frustration, hitting the floor on either side of her.

The doorbell rang and she tensed, then smiled. She rose and opened the front door without hesitation, expecting to see another envelope or a package.

She wasn't expecting to see George.

"George!" Hermione said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"We have a-a-a problem," George told her. "I tried to telephone, but the line was busy."

"Busy? I haven't had a single...," she trailed off and rolled her eyes. "He must have cut the phone lines, too."

"What?" George asked.

"Never mind." Hermione said, waving him inside. The lights went on suddenly and she slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Looks like he's given up for tonight. So, what's the big crisis this time?"

Hermione grabbed the phone on the third ring the following evening, quickly swallowing the cookie bite she'd taken. "'Lo?"

"Hi, honey," Her mother greeted.

"Hi, Mum," Hermione replied. "What's up? Is there a change in time flight time?"

"Actually, yes," she said over the line. "My flight is now coming in at never o'clock."

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"We're snowed in, Hermione." Her mother said. "All flights have been canceled until further notice. It doesn't look like I'll be home tomorrow or for Christmas."

Disappointment coursed through Hermione. "Oh no."

"I know, sweetie," she said. "I'm unhappy, too."

"Couldn't you take a train or something?"

"Everything is shut down, honey," her mother told her. "I can't even get out of the hotel. Besides, where am I going to find a train that can cross water without any tracks?"

"This sucks," Hermione said unhappily. "Big time."

"I agree," she said. "But that doesn't mean you can't still have a good Christmas."

"Are you being sarcastic, Mum?" Hermione said.

"No, Go ahead and make the dinner. Most of the food is pre-made in the refrigerator. All you have to do is put the roast in the oven two hours before you want to eat. Then you and Draco can sit down..."

Hermione snorted. "Mom, Malfoy is _not_ going to want to eat Christmas dinner with me."

"He will and he is," her mother stated. "I had already told him before I left that he was expected to join us at the table. And you could always invite George over. I'm sure he would appreciate it."

"Maybe," Hermione sighed. "I'd rather have you home."

"Me, too," she said. "Now, my gifts for the two of you are on the top shelf in my closet. Feel free to open them like we normally do on Christmas Eve. And take pictures. I don't think Draco realizes he gets presents, too."

"I think the concept of Christmas is lost on Malfoy, Mum," Hermione said wryly.

"Alright, on that note, I'm going to tell you I love you and to put Draco on the phone," she said.

"I love you, too, Mum," Hermione said. "Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course," she replied.

Hermione said her disappointed goodbye and set the phone down. Opening the basement door, she yelled, "Ferret! Mum wants to talk to you!"

"I'm not deaf, you know," Malfoy grumbled to her, coming up the stairs.

Hermione headed down the hallway and started to giggle when she heard Malfoy whine, "But I don't wanna get dressed up..."

"Bed, bed, bed, bed, bed," Hermione chanted, stumbling up the stairs. She and Malfoy had spent the last few hours fighting a Death Eater and about a dozen cursed house elves. Which all refused to stay unconscious.

After a quick stop in the bathroom, she tiredly changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. She stared at the white ceiling a moment, then happily gave into the pull of sleep. She immediately started to dream. It was one of those dreams where she knew she was dreaming, but wanted to stay in it to see what would happen.

_She was standing on her front porch at night. The houses around her had all their Christmas lights on. The Death Eater and his possessed house elves ran by her first, being chased by George, who was dressed in a yellow rain slicker and holding a can of Camp Dry, yelling, "You can't come to London unless you waterproof yourselves!"_

_Her mother walked up to her next, wearing a snowsuit and carrying a roast. "Remember, two hours," she told her. "And don't forget to take pictures."_

_As her mother walked away, Malfoy appeared at the bottom of the steps and smirked. "A great Christmas gift from you to me would be if you shoved your tits in my face again," he said, then looked up at the night sky. "Looks like rain."_

_Hermione leaned over her porch railing and looked up at the sky. She felt a large drop hit her face and she brought her hand up to wipe the water away. When she returned her eyes to where Malfoy was standing, he was gone. Another drop hit her face and she wiped at it. She retreated under the porch and looked around, wondering what was next. She felt yet another drop hit her face and she frowned. She looked up and saw someone sitting on an exposed beam._

Startled, Hermione woke up. She opened her eyes and saw that it was three in the morning. With a small groan, she rolled her head on her pillow and looked up at the ceiling.

Her heart stopped.

_**Hello Hermione**_

The words were scrawled across her ceiling in glow-in-the-dark paint. She sat up quickly and felt something slide down her chest and hit her lap. Reaching over, she snapped on her lamp.

She screamed.

The entire bed was covered in photographs.

Every single one of them was of her.

When Malfoy heard the scream, the world dropped from under him. Scrambling from his bed, he tore up the basement stairs, terrified for the first time in what seemed like forever. The high-pitched, horrified sound echoed around him and he couldn't run fast enough. He grabbed the end of the banister in the front hallway and used it to catapult himself up the second flight of stairs, stumbling part way up.

He threw open Hermione's bedroom door and saw her sitting up in bed surrounded by hundreds of photographs. Her huge eyes were framed by an ashen face streaked with yellow and she was gasping for breath, she had her knees pulled up to her chin, with her forehead resting on them, her hands in her hair.

He was at her side in an instant, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her against his chest. "Herms, I'm here. I'm here," he said, rocking her slightly. His eyes caught sight of what the pictures were of and he turned paler than normal. "Oh fuck."

Putting his arm under her knees and one around her back, Malfoy stood and quickly carried her out of the bedroom. His mind was whirling. He knew for a fact that he double-checked the locks on all the doors and windows before heading to the basement, save for Hermione's room. He had been awake and reading since then and he hadn't heard a single sound other than the normal noises of the house.

Not wanting to let go of her for an instant, he had to preform some tricky maneuvering to close the basement door behind him before he descended the stairs. He scanned the basement with all his senses, making sure he and Hermione were the only ones there. The furnace went on suddenly and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...," Hermione began repeating rapidly. Malfoy could hear her heart slamming in her chest as he rounded the bed and sat down near the fish tank with her in his lap. He hoped the colorful creatures would catch her attention and help calm her down with their lazy swimming. He hoped it would do the same for him.

"Shh, Hermione, you're safe," Malfoy said, running his hand over the back of her hair. "You're safe. There's no one here but me. Shh. I've got you. I'm here. Shh..."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Hermione was awake and trembling in his arms until after daybreak. Even after she'd fallen asleep, Malfoy loathed to leave her alone. However, he didn't want her to have to return to her bedroom in the condition it was in.

Covering her with the comforter, he made his way upstairs. He grabbed a garbage bag from under the kitchen sink, then went upstairs to remove the photographs.

He slowly got sicker and angrier with each picture he put in the bag. Every shot captured Hermione in various clothing, places and moods, testifying that the stalker had been watching her for some time. A few of them were of her changing in the bedroom, obviously taken with a telephoto lens due to the blurry image of her blinds at the top and bottom of the photo.

He gritted his teeth and shoved the pictures into the bag. When the last one was gone, he noticed a yellowish stain on her pillow. Examining it closer, he realized it was paint. The same paint that streaked her face.

He turned his eyes to the ceiling and swore fluently. Whomever was doing this was going to pay. But first, he had to take care of Hermione.

Hermione didn't leave Malfoy's bed until after noon and then it was only after vast prompting by the blond. He had ordered her to start getting everything ready for Christmas dinner, despite her not being in the holiday mood. She doubted that anything could make this a Happy Christmas for her.

She could count the number of times on one hand since knowing she was a witch she'd been as terrified as she was earlier that morning. The first time she'd seen Ron get knocked out by the Chess Piece in their First year. The first time she'd found out Remus was a werewolf. The first time she saw Death Eaters at the World Cup. The first time she saw Voldemort in Person. And during the war when Hagrid walked out of the woods with Harry in his arms and crying.

Yes, she'd been scared other times, but not the type of fear that reached to the very core of her strength and tested it. She'd been terrified, unable to do anything other than scream and then try to breathe. If Malfoy hadn't been in the house, she probably would have been hiding in her closet for the rest of winter break.

Malfoy. Her blond haired hero. She was exceedingly grateful to him for cleaning up her bedroom. She doubted she would have held it together if she'd had to see the photographs again. He had also painted over the words on her ceiling and gone as far as changing the sheets on her bed. Sometimes the things he did shocked her and she would have trouble remembering he was a just a friend.

"I look like a soddin' toff," Malfoy grumbled, pulling at his collar. He picked up the knife and two- pronged fork and began to cut the roast. "The things I do for your mum..."

Hermione looked him over from head-to-toe with a grin on her face. He was wearing a cranberry-colored dress shirt, paisley tie in cranberry, black and gold, and a pair of black, dress chinos. His only protest to dressing up were the Doc Martins the black pants were tucked into on his feet. The clothes were just one of the Christmas presents from her mother Hermione had been told to give to Malfoy when she'd called at four.

They were in the kitchen, transferring dinner from cooking dishes to her mother's China. The sounds of a choir singing Christmas carols floated from the stereo in the living room. The dining room table was set with a red tablecloth, two lit taper candles, and two place-settings. Hermione had asked George to join them, but a "friend" of his had come from Romania for the holiday.

The Christmas tree was lit up in the living room, adding to the ambiance of the evening. The number of gifts under the tree had grown once Hermione had added her mother's from her closet. There were also several clumsily wrapped ones that Malfoy shoved with the others, growling at her when she had arched her brow mockingly.

Hermione picked up two dishes of food and headed for the dining room. She set them down carefully so as not to get anything on her deep red, long-sleeved dress. She smoothed her hands over the soft, form-fitting, thigh-high material and returned to the kitchen. Draco was still grumbling over his clothes, the roast and the holiday in general, causing a smile to cross her lips.

"Alright, Mr. Scrooge, I think you've cut enough," Hermione said. He scowled at her, but set the fork and knife next to the sink. She picked up the plate and headed for the dining room, adding over her shoulder, "Bring the drinks."

"I think Scrooge had the right idea," Draco said, coming into the dining room with two wine glasses in his hands. He set one down at each of their places. "Christmas is a useless holiday designed to get people to spend their hard-earned pounds on frivolous things."

"Since when have you worked to earn money?" Hermione asked mockingly, sitting down in the chair he'd pulled out for her. "Do you have another night job at the local Suds-n-Duds?"

"You are just so bleedin' cute," Malfoy said, taking his own seat. He looked at the food spread on the table with trepidation. "Now what?"

"Now we say thanks to a higher power neither one of us really believes in any more and dig in," Hermione replied. She picked up her glass and raised it, waiting for Malfoy to do the same. When he did, she gave a toast. "To my Mum, who's stuck in New York. If it wasn't for her, we'd be doing something much more fun and not with each other."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but clinked glasses with her anyway. They each took a sip, then began passing the food back and forth, filling their plates. Conversation revolved around the holiday movies on television, their lives at Hogwarts and memories of Christmas' past.

By the time the meal was over, Hermione was pleasantly stuffed and relaxed, the events of the morning disappearing in the enjoyment of the evening. Leaving the dishes at the table to clean up later, they moved to the living room with Egg Nog (spiked with fire whiskey) and cookies for dessert. They decided to wait until her mother came home to open the gifts from her and instead only exchanged personal gifts to one another.

"What's this?" Malfoy asked, looking at a flat envelope from Hermione.

"Snow tires," Hermione replied sarcastically. She fingered the black onyx teardrop pendant Malfoy had given her and was now around her neck. She had also gotten a wizard teddy bear, complete with wand and hat.

"Actually, I'd be interested in seeing that trick," Draco said, opening the candy cane-striped envelope. He pulled out a card showing Rudolph holding a shotgun surrounded by the bloody carcasses of other deer. The caption read: _"Look who's laughing and calling names now."_

Malfoy chuckled and opened the card. The inside read _"Happy Holidays"_ and was signed: _"Love, that know-it-all-witch- you-just-love-to-hate."_ Two tickets were included and when he turned them over to see what they were for, he gasped.

"Holy fuck, these are Sex Pistols tickets!"

"I take it you like," Hermione said. He nodded enthusiastically and she laughed. "I thought you would. When I saw the article in The Daily Prophet that they were coming to our part of London, I thought I'd get them to use as a bribe for a future favor."

"Name it," Malfoy told her immediately. He held the tickets as if they were gold.

"Nah," she replied. "Seeing you act like a total goob is enough for me."

"Cor, Granger, this is...thank you," he said.

Hermione smiled. "You're welcome, Ferret."

The doorbell rang.

Her smile slowly faded. She stared at the entry to the living room, not moving from her seat on the couch. Her heart started to speed up in her chest and she felt the licks of nervousness inside of her. All her relaxation and good humor disappeared with the single chime of the doorbell.

Malfoy rose and went to answer the door. When she heard the door open, she almost bolted from the couch. She was not yet prepared to deal with whatever the stalker had planned next.

"Granger, it's for you," Malfoy said, returning into view in the entryway to the living room. He gave her a half-smile. "Happy Christmas, luv."

Ron stepped into view.

"Ron," Hermione breathed. She stood on shaky legs and stared at him. When he opened his arms, she was across the room and in his embrace in a second. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Well, I'll leave you two alone before I lose my supper," Malfoy said. He turned and walked into the dining room.

Ron released Hermione and dropped his gaze to her. "How are you doing?"

"Including or not including this week?" Hermione asked. She led him into the living room and they both sat down on the couch. She gave him a thoughtful look. "Not that I'm not happy you're here, but why are you here? There's not something evil happening that I need to change clothes for, is there?"

"Malfoy called me this morning," Ron answered.

"He called you?" Hermione said, surprised. Ron nodded. "Will you excuse me for a minute?"

She stood and headed into the kitchen, where she could hear Draco doing the dishes. "You called Ron this morning?"

"I like to call him a bloody nonce," Malfoy replied, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his hands in the soapy water. "'This morning' just doesn't have the same ring to it."

She leaned against the counter beside the sink and frowned at him. "Why?"

Malfoy looked at her and said quietly, "Why do you think, luv?"

Hermione had to blink back her tears. She straightened and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she told him softly.

"Go on, then." He gestured with his head. "I'll do the cleanin' up."

She reached over and yanked on his tie. With a smile in response to his scowl, she returned to the living room. "So, what did Malfoy tell you about my stalker?" she asked Ron, sitting back down on the couch.

"Everything that he knew," Ron replied. "Letters, phone calls, the clapping, the tree, the pictures..."

Hermione shivered and rubbed her arms. "I didn't like that."

"I don't like it, either," Ron said. A hard gleam entered his eyes. "We're going to put a stop to him."

"That's fine by me," Hermione said. "That's very fine by me."

Hermione left the wizards in the kitchen discussing the stalker at eleven. As she had listened, she was unpleasantly reminded of why Ron was one of the most cruel wizards during the war. In a span of an hour, he'd come up with all sorts of other things the stalker hadn't done to her in trying to figure out his next step.

Malfoy hadn't helped matters, either. He kept interjecting disgustingly graphic ways they could kill the stalker. She had sat there as long as she could until deciding she'd better leave before she became afraid of them.

In her bedroom, she carefully removed her new necklace and set it on her dresser before slipping out of her dress. She put on her robe, grabbed some comfy clothes and headed to the bathroom.

Once there, she unpinned her hair, cracked open the frosted window, then got into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful. She stuck her head under the spray for several minutes and let the water wash away her worries.

Reaching for the shampoo sitting on the window ledge, she poured a good amount of the sweet smelling stuff onto her hand. She absently noted that she was almost out as she went to put it back on the ledge.

A hand came through the window opening and clamped a handcuff around her wrist.

Malfoy and Ron froze mid-argument when a scream split the air. Chairs flew backwards and the two almost knocked each other down in their rush from the kitchen. Ron hit the stairs first and sprinted up them with Malfoyat his heels. He didn't pause when he saw the closed bathroom door.

Hermione was crouched up on the sink, her back against the mirror, a bloody hand and wrist clutched to her chest. She screamed again when the door flew open, but threw herself at Ron when she recognized him.

"He's here, he's here, he's here," she squealed in fright, grabbing the front of his shirt.

Ron practically shoved her at Malfoy, then ran back down the stairs and out the front door. Hermione buried her face against the familiar chest, the strong arms around her body giving her a feeling of protection. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her ragged breathing.

Draco's gaze found the end of a broken handcuff hanging from the window ledge. Fear and anger slammed into him at the same time. Hearing about the stalker and seeing something he did first hand were two entirely different things. If Hermione hadn't been able to break the cuffs with a spell or had been home alone... He didn't let himself complete the thought.

Reaching behind the open door, he pulled her robe off the hook and wrapped it around her wet shoulders. He could feel her trembling against him. She was truly afraid, he thought.

"Um, ow," Hermione sniffed. She stepped back from him slightly and looked at her wrist. Her mind and body was slowly comprehended the fact that she was hurt.

"Here, slide your other arm in," Draco said, holding up one side of her robe. She did as he said, then pulled it closed around her. "Where's the first aid kit?"

"There's one in my room," Hermione told him, her voice shaky.

Draco put his arm around her shoulder and led her towards her room. He pushed open the partially closed door and froze.

Hermione screamed again.

Hanging from a hook in her ceiling was a naked, brunette, blow-up doll with her name scrawled across its stomach in red.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Nothing," Ron said in defeat. He shut the kitchen door behind him. "I searched around the area, but the pillock must be part soddin' greyhound."

Hermione and Draco were sitting at the island counter, with Hermione dressed in the clothing from the bathroom. She had a white bandage around her wrist and a haunted look in her eyes. "He was in my room again," she told Ron.

"What?" Ron shot a disbelieving look at Malfoy.

"He left a present," Draco said from between clenched teeth.

"Now how the bloody hell did he do that?" Ron said. "We were down here the whole fucking time."

"Through my window," Hermione said, her voice small and slightly scared. "He must have come through my window, put the...put it up, then climbed around to the bathroom to..."

Ron put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently. "It's ok, 'Mione."

"It's not ok!" Hermione exclaimed, standing abruptly. "He handcuffed me! If I was here alone, he could have done stuff to me!"

"Luv, you're a witch, you would have been ab-"

"Ron, I was terrified!" Hermione yelled. "I couldn't even open the damn bathroom door!"

Draco stood and pulled Hermione into his arms. "Let's get away from 'what ifs,'" he said. "He's gone now and you're alright, that's what's important."

"But I'm not alright," Hermione said, starting to cry. She pressed her face to his chest. "I'm so scared. I hate it."

Draco exchanged an angry look with Ron. At that moment, he would feel no remorse if he were to tear the stalker's head off. After torturing him for days, that was.

"Why don't you two go downstairs," Draco suggested, silently communicating with Ron that he would take care of everything. Ron nodded and led Hermione to the basement.

After the door had closed behind them, Draco slammed his fists down on the island counter top. He was furious that something else happened while they were sitting right there in the kitchen. He hated that Hermione had been frightened. He hated the frightened Hermione, period. He wanted his sarcastic, tough, could kick his ass into next week Hermione back.

Ron opened his eyes when he heard Malfoy come down the stairs. He was half-sitting, half-laying on the bed, Hermione curled against him, asleep. Whatever awkwardness that should have been between him and Hermione had been displaced. He had sworn to himself when he had left her that if she should ever need him, he would be there for her. And here he was.

"She ok?" Draco asked quietly, walking across the basement. He pulled off his tie and tossed it onto the dresser.

"For now," Ron replied, equally as quiet. "But until we get this bastard..."

"She's going to be a scared little twit," he finished. His shirt got thrown into the laundry basket. "Makes me want to kill her."

"Harm one hair on her head and I will rip your heart out through your nose with a coat hanger," Ron growled.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Right."

"You're not going to get undressed down here," Ron said, glaring at Malfoy when he started to remove his pants.

"It's my room," Draco replied. "And it's not like Hermione hasn't see it all." He smirked.

If Malfoy was a lesser man, he would have turned tail and ran at the look Ron gave him. However, since he wasn't, all he did was chuckle and throw on a pair of sweats. He grabbed a book off of the top of one of the book towers, then settled onto the opposite side of the bed.

He paused after opening the cover and looked over at Ron. "Tomorrow, we kill the bloke."

Ron gave Malfoy a single nod, then closed his eyes again. Tomorrow couldn't get there soon enough.

"Still nothing," Hermione muttered to herself. The lights from the tree behind her were reflecting on the front window and she pressed her forehead against the glass to see outside better. Her arms were wrapped around herself in an effort to feel protected.

She mostly felt afraid.

_**Happy Christmas, Hermione**_, she thought sarcastically. Her eyes shifted from shadow to shadow nervously. Ron and Malfoy were outside somewhere, watching and waiting. Her magical guardian angels.

Waking up between them had been a new experience. If there hadn't been someone stalking her, she might have taken advantage of the situation. It wasn't everyday a girl was pressed between two very sexy men. But, alas, she hadn't been in the mood, so after a quick fright-filled trip to the bathroom, she had returned and snuggled back between them as if they were magical security blankets.

They didn't seem to mind too much.

Now they were outside and she was inside, alone, hoping to draw the stalker. All the windows and doors in the house were locked. That way, if he did come, he'd have to take the time to pick the lock. Then Ron and Malfoy would catch him and, more than likely, kill him. She wasn't feeling too upset about that notion.

She lifted her head from the window and leaned against the back of the couch. The foot wide gap between the wall and the couch was just wide enough for her to stand behind. From outside, she probably looked like a young woman, waiting for her Christmas Day company to arrive. She wished that was really the case.

Hermione felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck and she tensed. Not moving, she stared outside the window, searching for the cause of the feeling. She inhaled shakily when she saw someone walking straight towards the window. Straight towards her.

Him.

She knew it was the stalker. She could feel it in her bones and by the fear bubbling up inside of her. He was taller than her. He had dark, scraggily hair. He had a thick, bushy beard and mustache.

Hermione froze as reality hit her. The stalker couldn't be heading straight towards her across the lawn and be taller than her. He would have to had come up the steps to the porch. Even if he ducked down, she would have seen him crossing from the stairs to the window.

Which meant that he was reflected in the window.

Hermione whirled around and pressed her back against the window, just as the stalker reached out to grab her. Their eyes met and she opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. She was frozen in terror as the man slowly smiled at her.

Her mind was screaming over and over: **_"He's in the house! He's in the house!"_** The part of her that was still an eighteen year old girl was petrified.

Then the part of her that was the smartest witch of her age group got pissed.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!" She screamed, then launched herself over the back of the couch at the man. They both hit the coffee table hard before sliding off of it onto the floor. She got to her knees beside him and threw several punches at his face. When he brought his arms up to block her, she grabbed one and broke it with little effort, even without her wand.

He let out a choked scream and she smiled evilly. Rising to her feet, she grabbed his shirt and threw him out the front window. Glass shattered and rained down onto the porch and the grass beyond it. Before the stalker even hit the ground, she was out the window after him.

Draco ran around the corner of the house when he heard the loud crash and stopped abruptly when he saw the scene before him. _**That's my girl,**_ he thought, a broad grin crossing his face. Hermione was wailing on the downed man with a fury he knew and loved.

He saw Ron come around the opposite side of the house, pause, then run over to Hermione and pull her off of the man. The grin was replaced by a scowl and he jogged over to them.

"Let me go, Ron," Hermione was saying, struggling against the tall red head.

"Hermione, no," Ron said, holding her tight. "You don't want to kill a muggle."

"Yes, I do," Hermione growled.

Ron turned her around and met her angry eyes. "No, you don't," he said firmly.

"I'll do it," Malfoy happily volunteered.

"No, you won't, either," Ron said, raising his gaze to meet Malfoy's. "Take Hermione inside."

"But-," Hermione started.

"Bugger th-," Draco began at the same time.

"Now," Ron stated, his eyes flashing black as he stared down his old enemy.

"Fine," Draco sighed heavily. He stepped over the unconscious man and put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Come on, Granger. Let's do what the kill-joy says."

Ron waited until the two went inside before looking down at the stalker.

The stars shuddered at his smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

"You have to, Herms, it's tradition." Malfoy said.

"Forget it," Hermione stated.

"Afraid you'd love it?" he taunted.

She snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Prove me wrong, then," Draco said. He shook the piece of mistletoe he was holding. "I dare you."

"Not gonna happen you bleached ferret," Hermione told him before heading to the basement with a laundry basket.

"Wuss!" Draco yelled after her.

"Pervert!" she yelled back.

Malfoy grinned and dropped the plant on the counter in the kitchen. Ron had left a few hours before, which he was exceedingly happy about, and Hermione was trying to bring herself back to normal. He had called the window people, but no one seemed to want to work the day after Christmas.

Picking up the local newspaper that he'd retrieved after making sure Ron was really gone, Draco scanned the headlines. His eyes widened briefly at what he saw.

**Serial Killer Found Brutally Murdered In Alleyway**

**Tyler Walsh was found at two o'clock a.m., December 26, in an alleyway outside of the Ottery St. Catchpole** **Police Department. The serial killer, number one on the FBI's Most Wanted list, had escaped from London's Maximum Security Facility during an appellate hearing. **

**Walsh was sitting on death row for his crimes that spanned twenty years and took forty women's lives when he escaped. His modus operandi was horrifyingly clever - he'd break into his intended victim's home and conduct his plan of terror, and eventual rape and murder, right from the victim's own attic.**

**The body was found by two local police officers returning from their tour of duty. Despite swelling and numerous contusions, Walsh's face was easily identifiable. **

**Laying beside the body on the ground.**

**"It was the sickest thing I've seen since I saw that movie 'Silence of the Lambs,'" Officer Charles Davies, one of the two who found the body, commented. "His face had just been cut right off of his head. The rest of him wasn't too pretty to look at, either."**

**At the time of printing, the medical examiner stated that Walsh died from massive blood loss. Time of death was approximated to be shortly before midnight on Christmas Day. **

**"This may sound cruel, but Walsh's death should be considered a Christmas gift to the women of London," the medical examiner stated. (Continued on page 2)**

**  
**"Damn Weasel," Draco said in amazement. "never thought you had it in you."

He needed to tell Hermione about the story, minus several pertinent details she didn't need to know her soulful ex had done, in order to reassure her the stalker was gone. After turning to page two, he hurried down the steps, still reading. "Hey, Granger. I found out how the stalker was getting in here without us hear-"

Draco looked up just in time to hit his nose between Hermione's breasts. He staggered back a step, more surprised than hurt, a cupped a hand over his face. He stared for a moment at the upside down witch hanging from the pipe in the ceiling. He dropped his hand and grinned.

"Bloody hell, pet, your tits should be registered as lethal weapons."

THE END

**STORY BACKGROUND**

Okay, well I finally got all the chapters of **STALKER** up. I hope you enjoyed it. I wrote this story around Christmas time because I was getting tired of writing one shots and I just haven't gotten around to posting it anywhere until now. And to completely honest, I freaked myself out while writing this because what happens in the story is something that could actually happen in real life. My friends tell me that I have a "horror movie" mind. Which I guess can be useful while writing.

Again, I hope you enjoyed the story and thank you so much for reading. I'm really glad people like leaving reviews on here, because on another site where i started posting some of my stories, people almost never leave reviews and i only get about 15 reads per story. --.

ANYHOW! Thanks for reading! And feel free to read some of my other stories, which i hope you enjoy as well.

-Nightwalker21492


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